It's a Shame
by Benedict's Our Division
Summary: John gets momentarily kicked out of the flat by a thinking Sherlock. A jogger thinks he's gay. It's a shame that his whole argument becomes "I'm not gay!" Please review!


This is just a hilarious (hopefully) little one-shot dedicated to everyone who favorited, followed, or reviewed our other stories (If you haven't, go check them out!) Please review!

Enjoy!

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"Get out."

Sherlock's voice was startlingly loud in the near silence. John's fingers stumbled to a halt on the keyboard, a line of jumbled letters appearing at the end of his sentence. "What?" he asked distractedly as he fixed it.

"You heard me. Get out."

John frowned minutely and glanced up. "Out of the room?"

"The flat." Sherlock's head suddenly whipped away from the pictures and papers he was studying. "Get out of the _flat,_" he exclaimed, briefly scowling at the door. "I need to go to my mind palace, and you're terribly distracting."

"I haven't moved for the last forty minutes. All I've been doing is typing."

Sherlock returned his attention to the board and made a dismissive gesture.

"Yes, yes, you're typing a new post for that stupid blog everyone always wastes their time on. And far too loudly at that." Here, John raised his eyebrows. He was unsurprised but annoyed. "You need to leave."

He shook his head. "Sherlock, you can't just kick me out. It's my flat too."

"It was mine first."

Now he looked at Sherlock almost disbelievingly. John knew he could be childish, but he was unprepared for the kindergarten argument of "I had it first". He chewed the inside of his lip and thought about how to best approach the situation. Should he play the adult like he always had to, or stoop to childish bickering?

"Doesn't matter," he said at last, settling for the former. "I paid for it too."

Sherlock completely ignored this line of reasoning. He thoughtfully put a finger to his lips, then waved his free hand at John. "I'm getting close. Leave."

Fine. John could be like to too. He went back to his laptop and pointedly began typing.

Unsurprisingly, Sherlock's response was swift in coming. "_John._"

"If I'm so damn loud, can't I just leave the room?" he said irritably, looking back up again. Saying Sherlock wasn't the easiest person to live with was a massive understatement, and while John had

"It's only for a few hours, John!" Sherlock called out from the window. "I'll text you when you can come back in, though!" And with that, Sherlock slammed the window shut. So here John was, sitting on the step of 221B Baker Street, shivering slightly.

John had been sitting on the step now for nearly two hours. His rear was going numb, he was bored, and worst of all, he was pretty sure that Sherlock had forgotten about him.

"Girlfriend kicked ya out, huh?" John looked up to see the face of a sympathetic jogger.

John sighed. "Something like that." He said. The jogger gave him a small shake of his head.

"Been there, mate." He said, "Living with girls is a tough deal." John's eyes widened slightly. His phone beeped, signaling that he had a text, but he ignored it.

"No, it's not my girlfriend. He's just-" Now was the turn for the jogger's eyes to widen.

"Oh, so you're- Yeah, actually, I can see it on you now that I'm looking for it." John's eyes went even wider.

John's phone beeped again, only to be ignored.

"No, I'm not- God, I mean, I'm not actually-" The jogger quickly cut him off.

"No, mate, it's fine. Totally fine. My brother's gay." He said with a secretive wink.

"No, I'm not-" Suddenly a deep baritone voice filled the air.

"John!" Sherlock called down, "There you are! Didn't you get my texts? I need to know what to do about the broken bed!" John turned beet red. It wouldn't have been quite as bad had Sherlock chosen to get dressed that morning. The case, however, was only a 5, making it unworthy of clothes.

The jogger began laughing, doubling over and holding his sides. Bystanders on the street and sidewalk stopped to stare at the man wrapped in a sheet with his hair in a mess. John quickly jumped up, stalking towards the door.

"I'm not gay!" He exclaimed angrily before shutting the door loudly. He stomped up the stairs to see Sherlock sitting on the couch. The window he had previously been leaning out of had been shut.

"You do know," Sherlock began in a monotone voice, "That it's a shame when your whole argument becomes 'I'm not gay!'?" John stared at him, dumbfounded, before shaking his head at his flat mate's inability to understand how embarrassing that had been. John 'Not Gay' Watson walked up the stairs to his room.

"And did you know," Sherlock continued to the empty room, "That it's a shame he actually isn't gay?"

"SHERLOCK!" An angry voice shouted from up the stairs.

"Uh oh." Sherlock breathed. In a flash, he was up and out the room, donning his coat and scarf as he went down the stairs during his hasty retreat.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY BED?!"

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Hope you guys enjoyed that! Review please, and have a great day, night, whatever! :)


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